


Whumptober 2019

by MatryoshkaDoll413



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: "Wake Up", "don't move", "stay with me", Altno. 1, Altno. 10, Altno. 9, Android Fevers, Asphyxiation, Bleeding Out, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Can Feel Emotions, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Whump, Delirium, Dragged away, Electrocution, Embrace, Emotions are Not Good, Explosion, Gen, Hiding, Human shield, Hurt Connor (Detroit: Become Human), I will play a note that resonates with the frequency of your eyeball jelly, Isolation, Kidnapping, Muffled scream, Nightmare, On like 7 different occasions wow, Ransom, Recovery, Scared Hank Anderson, Secret Injury, Self-Destruction, Shaky Hands, Stab Wound, Stitches, Tear Stained, Trembling, Unconscious, Virus, Whoever keeps removing good boy from sumo's wiki page, Worried Hank Anderson, Worried Parent Hank Anderson, abandoned, altno.12, beaten, gunpoint, hallucination, laced drink, lets get funky, pinned down, shackled, sumo is best boi, told you I was gonna use that one again, waterlogged, when I whump I whump HARD, whumptober2019, yeah that's the stuff, yes another one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 03:36:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20901005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MatryoshkaDoll413/pseuds/MatryoshkaDoll413
Summary: I've decided to participate in Whumptober 2019, since I've gotten an interest in writing fanfictions (specifically Hank and Connor whump)! This is gonna be a blast.All of the chapters will feature Hank and Connor, no slash, and Connor will be the one getting whumped in all of them. Hank is gonna go through the emotional roller coaster of his life.All chapters take place in separate universes, because if Connor got continually kidnapped and battered in the same universe, it would start to get pretty old.I'm only uploading the first chapter in the beginning of October, the rest will be dropped like a bomb near the end of October. So, if you like what you see, stay tuned!





	Whumptober 2019

**Author's Note:**

> I bet you've been wondering about this, if I told you I was doing Whumptober.
> 
> You might have thought: 'Matryoshka, you said you were doing Whumptober! It's now October 4th! You've missed the cut!
> 
> That was, indeed, intentional, but I have a reason! If you know my work, I like to edit my works thoroughly before sending them off into the void. If I did a prompt a day, I wouldn't have the time to polish them like I want to, so I decided on a better solution.
> 
> I will be doing all the prompts, but I won't be uploading them until the end of the month, all in a single chapter bomb. I plan to do this before Oct 31, so I can keep it in Whumptober. This chapter is just to give a little *taste* of what is to come (roughly), and to let y'all know what my plans are. 
> 
> (Also, if you're following Fail-Safe, I will be working on these two projects simultaneously)
> 
> Read on!
> 
> (I don't exactly know how the Archive is with updates, but I accidentally posted this like a couple minutes ago with the wrong date, then I panicked and ended up deleting the whole thing (but i wrote my story on a google doc so nbd) but I had to go back through and upload the tags and stuff again. if you got an update notification then sry. I'm a mess)

Hank was startled awake at 1:47 AM, according to the blurry numbers on his alarm clock, by a hard _ thud _outside his bedroom. He shot up in bed, listening carefully as his heart started pounding. The noise couldn’t have been Sumo, as his bulky dog was laying right next to him, growling at the door.

Silently sliding open his bedside table, Hank wrapped his hand around his revolver, the cold metal sending a tingle up his arm. He could hardly see two feet in front of him, and it was only because he had cleaned his floor earlier that week that he didn’t trip while creeping to his door. However, if there was an intruder in the house, he would be damned if he let them get to Connor.

He waited, hand on the knob, for any sign of movement or a creaking floor, before pulling it open and taking blind aim. The only thing Hank could see was a bright red LED circle attached to a black mass crumpled in front of his door. 

“Connor?” he whispered, dropping his gun with a clatter. His hand flew along his bedroom wall until he hit the light switch, and his eyes were pierced by the light as it flooded the room and into the hallway.

Illuminated for him, huddled on the ground, was Connor, the closest thing he had to family. He was deathly still, LED glowing a violent red.

“Shit, what? Connor?” Hank gasped, knees hitting the hardwood floors as he grabbed Connor’s shoulders to turn him around.

Just as soon as he did, Hank jerked his hands away with a hiss of pain, because _ god damn that burned! _

“Connor! Con, wake up! Can you hear me?”

The android didn’t move, not even a twitch, and Hank’s gut grew cold with a quickly setting in panic.

_ Shit shit shit, what do I do? I can’t touch him, he’s too fucking hot. What do I do? _

Light from the room behind him was shining out into the hallway and dimly lighting the kitchen, and Hank’s eyes settled on the drawer by the oven where he stored his oven mitts.

_ It’s worth a shot. _

Hank stepped over Connor and rushed into the kitchen, flipping the hall and kitchen light on his way, pulling two matching green oven mitts from the drawer and slipping them over his hands. Sumo had come out to investigate, so Hank corralled him back into his bedroom and shut the door.

He got down on his knees once more, with the mitts, and grabbed Connor’s shoulders to flip him over. He was wearing the navy blue fleece pajamas Hank bought him for his new wardrobe, ones that Connor claimed were his favorite because of the ‘agreeable texture’. Hank desperately hoped that the temperature of his skin wouldn’t set them on fire, because at this point it felt like Connor was going to burn a hole in the floor.

Connor was laid on his back, and Hank noticed for the first time that his skin was fluctuating, like a rolling ocean. White patches would come and go, moving around his body mesmerizingly, but nothing else on his body was even twitching. Thirium was leaking steadily out of his nose and smeared all over his face, soaking the front of his pajama shirt and making it look like Connor had taken a bite out of another android.

Hank tapped him gently on the face. “Hey, Connor? I need you to respond to me, buddy. Just say something, please.”

The last time Hank knew a Connor to be this silent and motionless was when he shot Connor 60 in Cyberlife Tower during the revolution, a scene that gave him nightmares for many months. He had a feeling this chilling moment was about to replace it.

“God damn,” Hank sighed, leaning away from his boy to wipe away the sweat that accumulated on his brow. Connor was a fucking _ radiator_, and Hank didn’t know what could be causing it.

_ He was perfectly fine earlier today...unless there was something wrong and I didn't see it. Why doesn't he tell me shit like this? _

He caught a glimpse at the microwave timer, and it wasn’t even 2 AM, but Hank wasn’t sure Connor was going to live to the morning if he didn’t do something quick.

Hank scooted Connor gently out of the middle of the hall (He was too hot to attempt to carry, even with oven mitts), so Connor was laid flat on his back and his right side pressed into the wall, giving Hank access to his left side. He quickly got up from his kneel, knees popping and aching.

His cell phone was charging on his bedside table, so he opened the door, which let Sumo into the hallway, discarded his mitts, and picked up his cell to dial the one person who might know what to do.

Then the phone rang in his hand, without him pressing a button, and he flared in irritation without bothering to check the number.

“What the fuck do you want?” Hank answered crossly, leg bouncing, and staring out at his android in the hall to watch for any sign of movement. Sumo was out there with him, but lying near the opposite wall because Connor was just too hot.

“Lieutenant Anderson? Are you awake at this hour?” came a tense voice through the receiver, one that Hank could recognize from a mile away.

“Markus! Thank God, I was about to call you. Something’s wrong with Connor,” Hank sighed hurriedly, not expecting the sudden silence on the other end.

“...oh no... no no no…” He sounded far away, like he was whispering to himself. Hank knew he wasn’t far away from his phone, because androids took calls directly into their minds. “Is he...What’s wrong with him exactly?”

“Well, he’s about a fucktillion degrees, nonresponsive, he’s got thirium dripping out of his nose, and his light’s as red as fucking blood. I can’t even touch him, he’s so hot.”

More silence on the other end for a couple of moments, before quiet, frightened, “...shit.”

“Why?” Hank asked. “What the hell’s going on? Do you know what’s wrong with him?”

“That was the reason why I called you, actually. That also explains why Connor didn’t respond when I called him,” Markus explained quickly, sounding rushed. “We have a serious situation over in Jericho. Just in the past four hours we’ve had more than thirty androids come in with the report of a critical thermoregulation malfunction- it’s the thing that keeps androids from overheating. We think it’s a virus, but it set in so quickly we couldn’t get anyone to tell us how it happened before they...succumbed.”

Hank didn’t like the sound of that.

“What do you mean ‘succumbed’?” No answer. “Markus? What the fuck does that mean?”

“...as of right now, of the thirty four reported cases, there have been sixteen full shutdowns. The rest were forced into emergency shutdown, like Connor seems to be. If we can’t get his heat down, his thirium will start boiling and his biocomponents will be damaged beyond repair.”

_ Oh God. _

“Oh my God,” Hank whispered, closing a hand over his mouth and turning back around to look at Connor. Sumo was sniffing the area around his head. “Is there- there’s gotta be something we can do. I’d take him to Jericho, but I can barely touch him right now without burning the skin off my fucking hand.”

“I know, Lieutenant. We’re trying everything over here, but nothing seems to be helping. Until we can finally get a hold of the source of the issue, there’s nothing we can do. I’d send someone over to help, I swear I would, but...” Markus trailed off, voice dropping with guilt.

“I know, kid. Don’t sweat it too much. I’ll-I’ll figure something out. He’s not gonna die on my watch,” Hank assured with a mien of confidence.

_ He can’t. He can’t die here, not like this. _

Markus gave a short, sad chuckle. “I believe that he won’t go down without a fight, that’s for sure. Connor’s the newest model, he may have something that the others don’t. I’ll send someone out as soon as I am able, but, until then, RA9 be with both of you.”

“Good luck, Markus. I’ll let you know if anything changes.”

“And I will do the same with you. Good luck to you both.”

And, just like that, the call ended and Hank was standing in silence once more, with the undertone of the faint sniffing of Sumo.

Hank dropped his phone into the pocket of his pajama pants and went back out into the hallway to meet Connor, grabbing his oven mitts and slipping them on again.

He knelt back down, lightly shoving Sumo out of his face, and ran one hand down Connor’s mouth, ridding him of the thirium staining his chin and upper lip, though more began to drip out slowly. His mitt was now blue, but thirium was washable.

“Hey, Con. I’m gonna try and fix you up, okay?” Hank said softly, as if Connor could hear him in his inactive state. “I just gotta get your temps down first. I bet if you were awake, you’d have given me ten different solutions by now.”

Hank sat there for a moment, thinking, and rubbing his hand on Connor’s abdomen as a comfort to both of them.

_ What can I do to help a heated android? If I can get him cool, I’ll be able to move him off this damn floor, maybe into an ice bath… _

_ Fuck! That’s it! _

Hank would have to treat this like a fever. A dangerous, high temp, life or death fever.

Patting Connor once on the stomach in assurance, he stood back up to get to his freezer, knees complaining the whole way. It was mostly bare, he didn’t need to freeze a whole lot since Connor’s been cooking him healthier meals, but he did lay eyes on the things he needed the most: frozen bags of vegetables and a handful of freezer burned ice packs. It wasn’t a fancy solution, but it would have to do.

He grabbed as many as he could handle, and the skin on his arms began numbing painfully quickly the longer he held them.

_ Markus said something about his blood boiling. If I get these around his heart, it should help him cool off. Dear God, please let this work. _

Hank removed his oven mitts and set them aside, then he removed Connor’s pajama shirt, eyes momentarily caught by the swirling colors of Connor’s malfunctioning skin simulator. His head and face area were unaffected mostly, but everything shoulder’s down was flashing in and out. He located the ring in Connor’s abdomen that outlined his thirium pump and, if Hank weren’t mistaken, it almost looked like it was turning red.

The frozen green beans were the first to go, stacked on his pump, and he surrounded that with a bag of mixed vegetables and regular ice packs. He placed two ice packs by Connor’s neck for good measure (He recalled something Connor said about how android biology was designed to specifically mimic humans in case of an untrained technician in an emergency, so there should be a major thirium line there) and one more on his forehead. Steam was coming up from the quickly heating condensation

And then he waited.

Sumo came alongside him, but Hank ushered him back into the bedroom and closed the door. Hank sat down by Connor’s head and leaned into the wall, keeping one hand holding down the ice pack on Connor’s forehead, trying not to get too lost in thought.

_ If this doesn’t work, I’m outta options. I know jack shit about android biology, I can’t fix this. How long was he like this before coming to get me? _

Hank waited for ten minutes more until he felt the ice pack under his hand begin to warm up, then he got back up to grab some more. He swapped out all the soggy vegetables and lightly chilled ice packs for frozen ones, and put one hand directly on Connor’s head. 

Much to his surprise and relief, it didn’t burn him like before. He could hold his hand there for just a little bit before it got too hot to handle and he had to jerk it away again, like he was touching a hot leather seat. His LED hadn’t changed from its steady red hue.

_ Does that mean it’s working? Please God, tell me it’s working. _

Hank almost sat back down, but he started thinking ahead.

_ I’m gonna run out of ice packs and vegetables soon, probably got less than a handful left in there anyway. If I can’t get a substitute, he’s gonna overheat again, and I won’t be able to stop it. He needs an ice bath. _

Cole’s fevers had never gotten so bad that he needed to be iced down, but Cole was also never in danger of having his blood boil in his fucking veins from the heat. Hank had never had to do an ice bath on anyone before, but he was absolutely willing to try it if things didn’t cool off.

He moved quickly to the bathroom, leaving Connor on the floor, and cranked on the cold water, letting it run as he rushed back. Steam was still rising from Connor’s prone body, still as death and completely silent.

“If you don’t want to get stripped and iced, Con, you’re gonna have to speak up,” Hank joked lightly, waiting for a response of any kind. When Hank hovered his hand over Connor’s body, he could still feel the waves of heat coming up off of him. 

Connor’s LED, once an unyielding red, began to cycle. Instead of a solid color, it was a rotating red bar making a circle around the light, like a loading sign from the older computers.

Hank didn’t know if he should be relieved or very scared, so he called Markus again.

He picked up on the third ring, likely distracted by the crisis still. “Hank? What’s wrong? How’s Connor?” Markus sounded so tired and emotionally strung out that Hank felt a pang of sympathy for the poor android.

“His light’s doing something different. It's still red, but now it’s spinning around. Is that good or bad?” Hank asked nervously.

The absolute silence on the other end was deafening.

“Hank...Hank, I-”

“God fucking damn it Markus, I don’t need you to beat around the fucking bush on this one! Is it bad? How bad?”

“He’s shutting down, Hank,” Markus said, tight with emotion. “I'm so sorry. He’s too hot, his body can’t-”

Hank wasn’t listening anymore, and his phone hit the hardwood floor with a crack.

_ I can’t save him. He’s gonna die in the middle of the fucking hallway in our own house and I can’t even fucking touch him. _

_ I couldn’t say goodbye. _

_ I couldn’t get him that fish he wanted. _

_ Why didn’t I take him to the aquarium? _

_ Why Connor? What the fuck did Connor ever do to deserve this? _

_ Why didn’t you take me instead? _

Hank hit the ground next to Connor, his best friend, his _ boy_, _ his kid_, and wept bitterly into his hands.

Sumo whined behind the door, but Hank blocked him out. Markus had either hung up, or his phone broke on impact, because he couldn’t hear anything else except his dog and the rush of running water in the bathroom.

_ Can’t do a whole lot of good now. Why didn’t I just ice him down earlier? Why didn’t I hear him in the hall before he collapsed? _

_ Why can’t I ever save my own fucking son? _

He leaned over Connor’s chest, still hot, and pressed his forehead into his kaleidoscope skin, still rolling with white. And he couldn’t stop swallowed sobs from rattling him to his core, shaking Connor’s body with him. His hand was on Connor’s forehead, which felt just on the side of ‘too hot to touch’, but he couldn’t care about anything else in the world at the moment. He wouldn't care if the fucking _ house _ was on fire, because his son was dead all over again, and his mind flashed toward the loaded gun still on the floor behind him.

"Connor...no, God, please. C'mon buddy, don't do this, c'mon. You know I can't do this alone, kid. Ple-Please, please don't leave me alone," He whispered, knowing no one could hear him. He choked on a sob tearing out of his throat, painfully attempting to swallow it down, and squeezed his eyes shut. He tried to block out the rest of the world as hard as he could.

Until a hot, shaky, weak hand came up and covered Hank’s own.

Hank’s head jerked up off of Connor and looked into his face, and met the gaze of bleary, feverish brown eyes that Hank never thought he’d see again.

“Connor! Connor, oh my God, hang on.”

Hank grabbed onto Connor’s quivering hand for dear life with both hands, just wanting to hold it for a little bit before his brain caught up with the situation.

Connor’s lips were moving subtly, unable to form any phrases, but Hank could just barely make out the words ‘_too hot’_.

“I know buddy, I know. I’m gonna help you, okay? Just try and stay awake for me. You got it?” Hank encouraged. Connor nodded weakly, looking like he was exerting energy just to force his eyes open.

Hank shook Connor’s hand lightly, getting his attention. “I’m gonna have to put you in an ice bath, kid, you’re too damn hot. You can complain about it as much as you want to later. I’ll be right back, okay? I promise. I'm not gonna leave you if you don't leave me.”

He waited for Connor to nod again in permission before reluctantly letting go, and he got to the bathroom as fast as his legs would carry him.

The water was to the brim of the tub, which would most certainly spill over once Connor was put in, but Hank wouldn’t give a rat’s ass if he flooded the damn _ house _as long as Connor was safe.

The water was very cold. Hank would need to add some ice to keep it that way, but it was okay for now. It was better than what he had.

Now he just had to get Connor into the bathroom.

He crouched down next to Connor again, whose eyes had closed in the few seconds he’d been gone, and shook him gently. His hands didn’t burn, but he was uncomfortable to touch.

“Con, wake up. Open your eyes, bud, c’mon. It’s bath time.”

It took several heart pounding moments for Connor to respond to him, but his eyes did slit open eventually.

“That’s it, kid, you’re doing so good. Just keep doin’ that and you’ll be golden. I’ll do the rest,” encouraged Hank, giving Connor a supportive pat on the shoulder. “I’m gonna lift you up now, okay? We gotta get to the bathroom.”

Connor’s head lolled to the side as Hank tucked an arm under his shoulders and hoisted him into a sitting position. His skin felt like the bottom of an old laptop left running; just hot enough to be unpleasant, but not enough to really hurt. He put his other arm under the crook of Connor’s knees, and prepared to lift.

_ My back is gonna hate me for this. _

Hank recalled the years of weightlifting he did before becoming a lieutenant, adjusting himself so he wouldn’t accidentally throw out his back lifting his kid off the ground. 

_ Just like a hot, 6 foot barbell. _

He hoisted Connor successfully into his arms, allowing Connor to rest his head on Hank’s chest like a child while Hank took him in a bridal carry to the bathtub. His arms grew hot and started stinging as Connor began to heat back up slowly, no ice packs to cool him off.

As gently as he could, he sat Connor on the edge of the tub and shucked his navy blue pajama pants, leaving him in boxer briefs that Hank let him keep on, and eased him into the cold water.

There wasn’t any immediate change that Hank could see, but he did see how steam started to rise when Connor hit the water. At some point in the journey, Connor had allowed his eyes to slip shut again, and Hank let him sleep.

He ensured that Connor wouldn’t slip into the tub while he was gone (he was too tall anyway) and left him to retrieve two large cups of ice from the kitchen.

When he returned, Connor’s eyes were opened again and his LED had blessedly changed from its solid red to a cycle of red and yellow, which Hank knew for sure meant he was improving.

Hank poured the ice into the tub and put his hand on the side of Connor’s head, cupping his face gently, and Connor leaned against him.

“Hey, Con. Glad you’re back with me. Sorry about the bath, but I kinda didn’t have a choice,” Hank said softly, watching as Connor’s eyes scanned him sluggishly. He looked very out of it. “Do you think you’re in a good place to tell me what happened? Markus is pretty worried about you too.”

_ Shit, I forgot to tell Markus that he woke up! My phone is still in the hall. _

Connor blinked slowly at his question, then shook his head no. His hand, almost violently shaky and hardly able to hold itself up, rose out of the water to cup his throat.

“Can’t speak, huh? That’s okay kiddo, don’t worry about it. You just worry about getting better, okay?”

He gave a weak little smile that made Hank’s heart jump for joy, and he couldn’t help but lean in the wrap his wet android son in a hug that was lethargically reciprocated.

Connor’s skin was nearing a level of comfortable, but still unnatural, warmth. Like a hot water bottle or the air of a sauna.

Hank leaned back again and took one of the cups, scooping up some cold water and pouring it over Connor’s head, cooling him off. If it was anything like a human fever, the head was the last thing you wanted cooking. He did this a few times, and Connor’s eyes drifted shut once more, like a sleepy puppy. Hank put his hand on Connor’s head and found it still hot to the touch, but absolutely nowhere near the level it was just a few minutes ago.

Giving Connor a little rub on his wet shoulder, Hank stood to go refill his ice and grab his phone along the way, pleased to see it hadn’t broken. He had almost six missed calls from Markus.

Hank dialed him back once he was back in the bathroom, dumping more ice into the tub and dumping a little more cold water on Connor’s head. Hank couldn’t be happier when his LED turned and stayed at yellow.

“Hank! Hank, oh God, oh RA9 Hank I’m so sorry,” Markus picked up immediately, sounding high strung and on the brink of a breakdown, if the wavering of his voice was any indicator. “I was- I was afraid you- Thank you for calling. Hank, I’m so sorry-”

“Markus,” Hank tried to interrupt him, but Markus wasn’t listening.

“I got so worried. We’ve been working as fast as we can, but we haven’t got any idea, three more people have died, and I didn’t want Connor to be one of t-”

“Markus!”

“I-I-,” Markus stuttered, then took a deep breath. “Y-yes? Lieutenant? What do you need? I’ll give you whatever I-”

“Connor’s okay.”

The silence this time was brief, shattered by a disbelieving “What?” on the other end of the line.

“He made it, Markus,” Hank said proudly, pouring another cup of water onto Connor’s head. Connor’s eyes were half closed as he watched Hank have his conversation, hypnotized by the rush of water down his scalp. “He woke up after his light started spinning, and I still don’t know how the fuck he did it. I got him into an ice bath. His LED is yellow right now, and I think he’s coming back to me. Still a bit slow, but he’s responding.”

“Hank...Hank that’s- that’s amazing,” Markus sounded like he was in shock. “The spinning only happens before an android enters a forced shutdown, I don’t know how he could have done it either. Did you ask?”

“I think his voice box is broken or something, he hasn’t been able to say a word since he woke up.”

Markus hummed thoughtfully. “Makes sense. If his thirium got hot enough it would have started corroding some of his biocomponents already, maybe it got to his voice modulator early on.” Markus paused, then said, “We’re trying to organize some ice baths down here for the androids that haven’t shut down. So far we’ve had almost twenty android deaths, and we have no leads as to what’s causing it. At least we haven’t had anyone else come in, but that might just mean they didn’t make it here in time.”

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up about it. Some of those guys might have been beyond hope, anyway. You just made their last moments comfortable.” That was something Fowler had said to Hank when he was just an officer. He watched a woman bleed out in his arms, and he was singing her favorite song for her, waiting for the paramedics.

“...Thank you, Lieutenant. That-that means a lot. I have to get going now, we’re icing down the first of them. Good luck with Connor, let me know if there are any changes.”

“Got it, kid. Stay strong,” Hank finished, and he moved to hang up the phone.

“W-w-wait. H-” Connor croaked, reaching a trembling hand out of the water to stop his arm.

Hank startled, dropped his cup, and held Connor’s shaking hand for him. ”Markus! Markus, hold on, Connor’s got something to say.”

He put the phone on speaker and nodded towards it.

“Connor! Are you okay? You freaked me out, you know,” Markus said giddily. He seemed to forget the ongoing epidemic for a few moments, happy to hear his friend back from the brink of death.

“E-e-emmmm-ema-” Connor sputtered, voice box croaking and skipping like a broken vinyl. “E-email. Th-therrrrr-es an em-m-mail. Virus-s-s.”

“Email? There was a virus in an email? Con, if you said email, you think you could forward it to me safely? If you can’t, I’ll send someone over for you to transfer the data,” Markus said urgently.

Connor’s LED started spiraling yellow, and his eyes fluttered strangely in that unique way that let Hank know he was making a wireless connection.

“Thank you, Connor,” Markus said when it was over, indicating that Connor had forwarded the information. “I believe I may have received something like this as well, but I hadn’t gotten around to opening it. If this was sent to every android, we could be looking at an act of terror, Lieutenant.”

“I’ll let Fowler know.”

Connor’s eyes closed again, and his LED blinked away from the bright yellow into a slow, swirling blue.

“His light’s spinning blue now. Is that good?” Hank asked, just wanting to be sure, and picked his cup out of the water to continue dousing Connor’s head.

Hank heard a light laugh from Markus over the receiver. “That means he’s in stasis. He’s recovering, Lieutenant. He’ll be okay.”

That was exactly what Hank needed to hear. The tension that had seized his shoulders and back melted off, bringing him sweet relief, and he felt like he could sleep for a thousand years.

“Yeah...Yeah…fuck. Well, go take care of your people Markus. I’ve got it under control over here.”

“Of course, Lieutenant. We’ll get to work on an antivirus as soon as possible and distribute it to everyone,” Markus assured. “The email he sent me was malware disguised as an informational update from a company that used to work closely with Cyberlife for software updates. They’ve since disbanded, so it didn’t come from them directly, but a wise place to begin the investigation would be to look into previous employees that would have access to the account.”

“Thanks for the tip. I’ll look into it after I’ve had a twenty hour nap, and after Connor gets less than 120 degrees,” Hank joked.

Markus laughed easily with him. “Good night, Lieutenant. Tell Connor to get better soon.”

“Yeah. Night, Markus.”

And he was alone again, silent, but this time it was peaceful. Connor was slumbering in the tub next to him, head dropped off to the side. Hank leaned in and pressed his lips firmly in the center of his son’s forehead.

He was pleasantly, naturally warm.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope y'all enjoyed! I wanted to change things up and give a story out of Hank's perspective. I think I might do a few more out of Hank's perspective, but I like to stay with Connor for the maximum whump experience.
> 
> I'm sorry I write so much, I can't help it 3X. Every single one of these chapters could have been a stand alone fic for all I know.
> 
> I'm super excited for the chapters to come! (Just letting y'all know, the Recovery prompt is my fav ;) )
> 
> Love it? Hate it? Let me know! I love reviews and I'm very receptive to criticism and ideas! I'm an amateur writer who wants to improve, and reading and responding to y'alls comments is always the highlight of my day :)
> 
> Love y'all, Happy Halloween!


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